The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

policies calculated to give Tōru a long and beautyless
life. What Honda feared was what Honda hoped for,
what Honda hoped for was what Honda feared.
The proposal was repeated at appropriate
intervals, like water dripping through a floor. It amused
Honda to be visited by this eminence and to hear his
desperate plea. He thought it too early to tell Tōru.
Honda was fascinated with the photograph the old
man brought. The girl was eighteen and a beauty, with
a thin delicate face that had in it nothing of the bright
and modern. There was beauty in the faint air of
bewildered resentment with which she faced the
photographer.
“Yes, she is very beautiful. And is she strong
physically?” asked Honda, the intent of his question
quite the opposite of what his friend must have
supposed it to be.
“I can assure you that I know her very well. She is
much stronger than this picture would lead you to
believe. She has had no serious illnesses. Health is of
course the most important thing. It was her father who
chose the picture, and I think he chose a rather oldfashioned
one.”
“She is of a cheerful disposition, then?”
“Not, I fear, if that expression contains a suggestion
of frivolity.”